


Thramsay One-Shot Prison AU.

by Holly_Hampshire



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Game of Thrones - Freeform, M/M, Prison AU, Ramsay Bolton - Freeform, Theon Greyjoy - Freeform, Thramsay - Freeform, a song of ice and fire - Freeform, i am an embarassment at this point, oh shit here we go again, reek - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 07:06:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20811059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holly_Hampshire/pseuds/Holly_Hampshire
Summary: so this is for deiwimin again so i hope she likes this, i haven't actually shown her the preview yet so here's hoping it's ok ?? if not i'll change it.in this basically theon accidentally killed robb and now he's cellmates with ramsay and he doesn't know what the fuck he's signed up for :)





	Thramsay One-Shot Prison AU.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deiwimin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deiwimin/gifts).

Ramsay looked up as they shoved in his new cellmate. The boy had mattered black hair that went to his shoulders and a panicked look in his eye that screamed foolishness. The male fell forward and onto his knees and he stared intently at the floor, as though it were about to collapse from beneath him. He would die quick here, Ramsay deemed. He turned his attention to the security guard with a stoic gaze that made the other man shuffle on his feet. Cowards, the lot of them. As the locked the door back into place, the boy suddenly sprung up from his position on the floor and promptly pushed against the iron confinements of the room.

“Theon Greyjoy, you are hereby convicted of involuntary manslaughter and are sentenced to life in prison, with a chance of parol.” the man announced before turning the keys and turning away to leave the lamb to his bidding. Theon, more alarmed than before, began to rattle the gate with vigour.

“No! Come back, please! It was an accident! Oh … oh God.” The boy slowly retracted himself from the exit and slowly slid himself down the cold, unwelcoming wall of stone beside him.

Ramsay took in his frame and sized him up to the drench of sweat forming on the cease of his brow. He noticed how the rims of his eyes were red and deducted quite quickly that he was under the influence – of what, he didn’t know. Judging from his earlier conversation with the guard, he could safely assume that someone had died due to his negligence, perhaps someone close. This was good. Ramsay could easily manipulate this plaything into bending to his will. A smirk tugged at the corner of Ramsay’s lips as he imagined all the fun he could have whilst rotting in this hell.

Seemingly realising that he was not alone, Theon jerked his head upwards and hastily rose to his feet. He was alert and fully aware of Ramsay’s prying eyes. Theon was still, observing the opposite man’s posture and the way his focus was solely on him. The hairs on his arms stood on edge and yet he willed himself to stay calm and collected, despite the situation he currently found himself in. He might as well get comfy – it’s not like he’s going anywhere anytime soon. God, what were his parents going to say once word reaches them about their beloved Robb’s death?

“I’m Theon,” he introduced himself.

“I know.” Ramsay replied simply. Theon looked taken-aback for a moment, unsure of how to react to this newfound revelation. Was he supposed to be scared? Intimidated? Fuck that. Instead, being the dumbass he is, he stood straighter and tilted his head upwards.

“How so?” Theon found himself questioning further, causing Ramsay to respond with a snort “The guards when you entered. Did you forget so quickly?”

Theon’s mouth opened into a large ‘o’ shape and he reached up to scratch the scruff of his neck.

“Ah, I see.” Theon was embarrassed now and Ramsay knew it, and the smirk that once made its home on his face grew into a small grin of sorts. Ramsay could make a bitch of him yet. He seemed too full of himself at the current moment, too proud. He would correct that soon enough. Ramsay stood up from his seated position and Theon crossed his arms across his chest; he looked Ramsay up and down once before sighing and shaking his head in disarray.

“I’m in here for murder, of all things. I shouldn’t be here; Robb shouldn’t be dead.” Another sigh left his mouth as he explained his innocence. Ramsay watched him with tentative eyes, all hints of wicked intentions hidden deep within them “I’m in here for murder too.” Theon’s eyes widened slightly in shock before he huffed.

“It sucks ass, doesn’t it?” he tried to lighten the mood, if even a little.

“I don’t regret it,” he spoke casually “I don’t feel sorry for the women either. Their soft, supple flesh. I toyed with them the most. I like the way their face expands just before their life is ripped from them. I can give you tips, if you want – my apprentice, of sorts.”

It was then that Theon felt his blood run cold and the hairs on the back of his neck prick up. No wonder the guards were so hesitant to come down here, if this was who his cellmate was. A psychopath. A killer. It was as though the moisture from his throat had evaporated – Theon needed an excuse to leave. Now. Theon laughed awkwardly and turned himself around to avoid Ramsay’s stare. There was no obvious way out, but perhaps … With the sound of footsteps closing in, Theon knew that he was approaching. He knew that he was standing right behind him.

“Planning to go somewhere?” his voice was rough and Theon could barely feel the warmth of his breath breezing over his locks of hair. This time Theon laughed merrily in hopes that he could fool Ramsay into thinking he was in ease. He swiftly turned on his heal only to have himself pressed up against the brick wall with Ramsay’s brutish hand at his throat. His hands immediately went to try and pry them away, but it was of no use. He was simply too thick and too strong. Was this how Theon would meet his end? Within the heartless inferior of a prison, millions of miles away from the rest of his family and friends. At the hand of this fiend?

Ramsay was scowling, his face nearing so that Theon had nothing else but him to look at. This close, Theon was able to point out the warts and boils loitering about on the murderer’s face. He sure looked like he could snap Theon in half if ever wished to. God, please, let him be merciful. Ramsay’s eyes held no life – no love. Theon had no idea what he was going to do next. All he could do was simply wish that no harm came his way.

“You are called Reek.” Came his course voice and Theon had to take a second or two to decipher what the man in front of him had said.

“What?” Ramsay applied more pressure to his throat, making the boy squeak in pain and his hands scratch; begging for release. Theon could feel the oxygen escaping his lungs at a frighteningly fast pace and his vision begin to blacken. He worried that the amount of force might even be enough to crush his spine.

“Okay! I am Reek!” at his submission, Ramsay’s hand loosened but did not quite move from its position. His eyes turned more to a playful light as he tilted his head, his voice smoother than it had been just moments ago.

“Good, Reek. You are now my bitch, understand?” a nod from Theon “You now belong to me. Everything you do, everything you say – I will know. Do not make me mad Reek, it would not end well for you.” Another nod from Theon was all it took for Ramsay to finally release Theon from his clutches. When he did, Theon lurched forward and fell to the floor; his body wracking in gasps for air. His hand came up to gently caress where his offender’s had once been. His eyes flickered up for just a moment to catch one of the guards looking down at him with pity, before they hurried to stare at something else in the distance. This confused Theon. Even the guards of this prison feared this man? Was there no one to stand up to this brute?

A chilling thought overcame him in that instance. Was he ever going to truly leave? If this murderer held this much power, even when he’s locked up behind bars, what wasn’t he capable of?

“Ramsay Bolton. You may refer to me as your Lord or your Master. You are now my property so I expect you to comply to my wishes. Understood?” when Theon didn’t answer, Ramsay resorted to dragging him back by his hair and forcing his boot into his side. Theon cried out in agony and groaned when he was suddenly on his back with Ramsay’s foot pressing down harshly against his jugular.

“What’s your name?” he asked him in a collected tone and Theon’s hands came to try and push the foot off of him. Ramsay growled and let him go for a moment to bend down and punch him across the face. A sickening crack sounded the room, causing a sudden quiet to enclose the other cells nearby. His boot was soon back to its original place, this time without any resistance from Theon.

“What’s your name?” this time Ramsay shouted, and with blood slowly starting to dribble down his chin, Theon responded back.

“I am Reek.”

Ramsay smiled faintly, then in a calmer voice asked again “What is my name?”

“Lord Ramsay Bolton, my master.” His voice was quaint and he gurgled a little on the blood welling up at the back of his throat. Ramsay hummed and pulled him up by the fabric of his collar. Theon stumbled a little yet resisted the growing urge to check if his jaw was still intact.

“Who am I to you?” he questioned again, this time with a serious glint shining in those dark orbs of his.

“My master?” Theon reiterated his previous point, though his questioning tone did not impress Ramsay in the slightest. Ramsay jerked him forward to the point where their noses almost touched. The guard outside had been watching this display unfold, unmoving, although his hand was now resting on the holster of his belt in case of emergency.

“Who are you?” and with this final question, Theon weighed his choices. If he were to say Theon Greyjoy, Ramsay would not be pleased and would most likely beat him to death – so long as that guard keeps doing what he’s been doing all this time since the moment he stepped into this place. If he were to say Reek, Ramsay would be pleased but in doing so he would lose his sense of honour and dignity with his name. He would have to rethink everything he does just so that it suits Ramsay’s wishes, but he would be alive. He would be alive, and breathing with blood pumping through his veins and to his heart. He would be able to live to see another day and possibly make it out of this prison and see the light again. Was there really much to deliberate when he put it like that? It seems more and more like a lose-lose situation the more he thought about it but there was only one option that would save him somewhat.

So with this thought in mind and a heavy heart, Theon threw away all that he knew and all that he had ever come to love and desire and looked Ramsay in the eyes with a different look to him.

“I am Reek. I am whatever you want me to be, master.”

**Author's Note:**

> moira u hoe


End file.
